


Reflection

by juststella



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2020-01-20 17:57:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18530203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/juststella/pseuds/juststella
Summary: This story was written for Everlark Fic Exchange - Springtime 2019.Prompt 54: Katniss, for some reason, using a car’s window as a mirror not knowing there was someone inside the car because of the window being so heavily tinted. Until Peeta, the owner of the car, rolls down the window. [submitted by @sunflowerslyf]





	Reflection

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to @javistg and @xerxia31 (Everlark Fic Exchange) for putting this wonderful event together.
> 
> Thank you @sunsetsrmydreams. My beta and precious friend.
> 
> Thank you @sunflowerslyf for your wonderful prompt.
> 
> I went for 'cute and fluffy...ish' so I hope you like what I came up with.

_The sun’s rays filter through the_ _lush, lavender canopy of the giant jacaranda tree, soaking my naked body with delicious warmth. I am so relaxed and utterly contented, the struggle to keep awake seems pointless._

_I give in to this luscious feeling and curl my back deeper into the strong arms that belong to the naked body laying behind me. His warm breath across my neck and shoulders and the gentle caress of his fingers up and down my body has me tingling with desire and the feeling keeps me from drifting off to a blissful sleep._

_“Does that feel good?” His sultry voice asks._

_“Mmmmmm…don’t stop.”_

_“Okay.” He chuckles. “Just a little longer but then you need to get up; you don’t want to be late today.” He whispers softly in my ear._

_“Mmmmmm…just a little longer.” I purr._

_Moments seem to pass and I’m suddenly feeling a little cold. I stretch out my body and reach for his arms to warm me._

_“I’m cold.” My voice, an embarrassing whimper._

_He wraps one arm tightly around my waist and with his free hand, makes quick work of unravelling my braid. Gently, he begins to comb his fingers through my matted hair and I fall deeply into this new and sensual feeling, any effort to suppress a moan of pleasure is lost with each gentle stroke._

_Squinting my eyes in the bright sunlight to look at his face, he moves his body over mine to deflect the blinding light. His smile takes my breath away, yet it is his eyes, as blue as the morning sky, that causes my heart to skip a beat. Looking deep into his crystal blue orbs, I see my own reflection looking back at me and I’m suddenly feeling self-conscious about my appearance._

_“Ugh! I hate my hair. It must look a mess. Maybe I should just get it all cut off.”_

_His fingers stop mid-stroke and he looks at me with pleading eyes. “Please don’t. Your hair is perfect.”_

_He brings his lips to meet mine before I have a chance to disagree but there’s an annoying buzzing sound in the background that is so loud it begins to hurt my ears._

_***_

 

I immediately spring up and lunge to the side of my bed and slam my fist at the offending noise. I sweep my hair away from my face and look around, realising that I’m in my tiny flat, alone and it was just a sweet dream. Sighing heavily, I’m left feeling a little disappointed because it seemed so real.

 

Turning my head back to the flashing numbers on the alarm clock, I try to focus my sleepy eyes on the time. I jump out of bed when I see I needed to be awake, showered, dressed and out the door half an hour ago. I can’t believe I slept passed my alarm.

 

“No…no…no…no. I can’t be late. Not today!”

 

I repeat these words as I run to the shower removing my pyjamas along the way; I don’t even have time to wait for the water to heat up before I step in and scrub my body in the tepid water then shampoo my hair as quickly as I can. Thankful at least that I decided on what clothes I am wearing today before I went to bed last night.  

 

Showering and drying in a matter of minutes, I dress, shove my resume, a hair comb and some lip balm hastily in my handbag then grab my car keys before running out the door.

 

My hair is still dripping wet, but I can braid it and add a touch of make-up in the car during traffic light stops. I paid for parking online, so I just need to turn on my phones’ GPS and be on my way. Hopefully I locked the front door on my way out, but I don’t have time to go back and check. I have nothing worth stealing anyway.

 

Struggling to make ends meet with two part-time jobs and a university loan, this job is the answer to all my prayers. In my preparations, I made sure to research everything there is to know about Mellark Corporation. I just need to get there on time to have a chance at making a good impression during the interview.

 

I fumble with the keys and finally get in the car and turn on the ignition waiting for temperamental ‘old Betsy’ to start up. It takes a while for her engine to warm up and today is no different only, she won’t even click over. 

 

“No…no…no…Not today Betsy…Please start; I promise no more E10 fuel; Just start for me!” I plead with the old rust bucket.

 

Still nothing and time is only wasting further away. With nothing to lose and everything to gain, I get out of the car and head for the bus stop. If I run fast, I should make the next express bus to the city.   

 

When I get to the bus stop, the line is long, _of course it is,_ but I’m determined to get on the first bus that arrives. Finally, a little luck comes my way and I manage to step into the ‘standing-room only’ packed bus. I’ll have to wait to fix my hair and makeup when the bus gets into the city but that shouldn’t be a problem.

 

_There’s got to be a ladies’ restroom or something, right?_

 

I look at my watch for the hundredth time when the bus comes to a complete halt. Looking around I can see the large office buildings, but my stop is still a few streets away. The cars, trucks and buses in front are banked up and, in the distance, I can hear sounds of sirens from emergency vehicles.

 

“Looks like it might be a traffic accident.” I overhear a fellow passenger say.

 

“Yeah, we could be here for a while…might be quicker to walk.” Another passenger replies.

 

I watch as several passengers ask the bus driver to open the doors to allow them to disembark and walk the rest of the way. He’s happy to comply if they watch their step getting off the bus. Taking all that I see and hear on board, I estimate how long it would take me to walk the distance and judging by my phone…it’s a brisk 30-minute walk. I just need to find somewhere to stop and fix my hair and make-up.

 

“Can you leave the door open please? Thank you.” I say to the driver as I step off and away from the bus.

 

***

 

“Good morning Peeta.” The sound of my secretary comes through clear on my car’s Bluetooth.

 

“It started off good Effie, but this traffic is a mood breaker. Have the candidates arrived yet?”

 

“Yes, 2 of the 3 candidates have already shown up; we have a diva who is not happy about waiting, she keeps giving me dirty looks every time she checks her Rolex. Clearly her time is precious. The other looks like he’s been out all night. His suit is terribly wrinkled, and I can literally smell beer from my desk! What do you want me to tell them?”

 

I press the mute button and laugh at Effie’s summarisation of the candidates waiting to be interviewed for the marketing position. When my former Chief Marketing Officer and friend Annie got married and moved across the country, her chosen replacement left an opening in the team and the job hopefuls are outside my office right now, and I'm stuck here.

 

“There’s not much I can do from here Effie. The Police are stopping all traffic from moving forward. It must be a bad car accident if they’re doing that. Everyone seems to be pulling over to the side so I’m just going to do the same and wait it out for a bit. I might even grab a coffee. Apologise to the candidates on my behalf and ask if we can re-schedule their interviews for this afternoon.”

 

Confident that Effie will handle the situation with her usual charm and poise, I hang up from our call and settle in the car to catch up on emails and maybe read copies of the resumes Effie just sent me.

 

Waiting for my laptop to start up, I take a moment to stare out of the window and people watch, knowing that no one can see me through the heavily-tinted glass.

 

A lean figure of a woman walks up directly in front of my window and reaches for something from her handbag and I’m just about to wind down the window when she begins to comb her beautiful long black hair. My heartbeat quickens as I watch her braid and un-braid her hair. She seems to be arguing with herself, unable to make up her mind which looks better. Braid or no braid and in that moment, I am mesmerised.

 

***

 

I’m about 4 minutes into my walk to the Mellark Building when I spot a parked car with darkened windows. _Perfect!_ It’s squeaky clean and I can see my refection so clearly. Looks like someone cares about their car.

 

I reach for the lip balm first then grab my comb and start to comb out the knots in my hair. Braiding it seems like the best solution.

 

“Go for the neat and tidy look.” I say to no one, looking deep into my reflection.

 

“No, it looks too girlish. Out…I should wear it out.” I think better of it and start to remove the hair tie.

 

“No…it looks too…I don’t even know what it looks like!” I huff.

 

“Ugh! Maybe I should just cut it all off!” I shout in frustration.

 

The sound of the car window sliding down leaves me frozen and I am unable to move my legs. A man stares at me with blue eyes and a smile that would light up your darkest day.

 

“Please don’t! Your hair is perfect.”

 

I gawk at him and sputter. “Uh...Thanks. I’m late for an interview and I was just trying to-”

 

His smile widens. “Well, if you’re late, I’m certain they are too. Why don’t you give them a call and explain the situation? I’m sure they’ll understand.”

 

Looking down the clogged street and footpaths hopelessly, I agree with this stranger’s sound advice. I need this job, and I’ll have no chance at all if I don’t let them know that I’ve been held up.     

 

I grab my phone and call the secretary who surprisingly, is more than happy to move my interview to later in the day. I thank her and hang up, turning my attention back to the handsome man in the car.

 

“My interview has been changed to 3pm.” Relief washes over me and I can’t help the wide grin on my face.

 

“Great! I was just going to get some coffee.” He points to a small café down the way. “Would you like to join me?” 

 

“Yes. Yes, I would.”

 

He swings open the door and throws himself out. The movement is quick and ungraceful, and I can’t quiet my chuckle.

 

With a hint of a blush heating his cheeks, he straightens his jacket and offers me his hand. “Peeta.”

 

I take his warm hand in mine. “Katniss.”

 

***

 

A year later...

 

“Katniss wake up.” Peeta says as he lays soft kisses on my neck.

 

“Noooo…Just 5 more minutes.” I moan as I cuddle closer to him.

 

“Okay.” He chuckles and kisses my bare shoulder before whispering softly in my ear. “Just a little longer but then we need to get up; you don’t want to be late today.”

 

“It is our wedding day after all.”

kpkpkp


End file.
